


It's a Cold and It's a Broken Hallelujah

by IrreverentFangirl



Series: FlarrowFemslashWeek2015 [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 1x23 Compliance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Day 7, Explicit Sex, F/F, Fake Names, FlarrowFemslashWeek2015, Ladies Loving Ladies, PoV Bisexual Female of Color, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrreverentFangirl/pseuds/IrreverentFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t good for her. She knew this. She knew she should’ve stopped this months ago; hell, she knew she should’ve never started it at all. </p><p>But Iris had lost the love of her life and she needed a distraction. She wouldn’t allow herself to self-destruct the way Barry was, she wouldn’t allow herself to retreat from the world the way Caitlin was, and she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened at all the way Cisco was. For her, she couldn’t pretend. But she could forget - even if it was just for an hour or so. </p><p>And that was Lisa came in and propositioned her. And sex? Sex always managed to take Iris’s mind off her problems. And sex with a women might make it so she could forget that her fiance was dead, if only for a night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Cold and It's a Broken Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, wow this is super depressing. It doesn’t get happy anytime soon and, if anything, probably just gets angstier for a while. But, I swear to god, it has a happy ending. Also, this fits in the Flarrow femslash week because smut? I mean, sad smut, but it’s smut right?
> 
>  **edit 10/1/17:** i'm never gonna finish this, but it works well on its own anyways.

Iris was lying on a bed, thinking about how she was going to hell.

Ok, that was a lie. The truth is, she was thinking about the sensation of Lisa’s tongue on her clit and how amazing Lisa’s hands felt massaging her inner thighs, while Iris writhed around on her bed. All that could be heard was Lisa’s skilled manipulation of her wetness.

But, no, Iris knew she was going to hell. Her fiancé hadn't even been dead for two months and here she laid, naked on her bed, captivated by her lover. Her new lover - Lisa Smith.

She had met Lisa two weeks previous, at the opening of Central City’s new queer club. Iris and Eddie had been so excited to go, ever since they heard about it, that even though Eddie had been dead for only about a month _(one month, one week, five days, five hours, and twenty minutes),_ Iris forced herself to go; the mantra _Eddie would've wanted it_ running through her head the entire time.

Once she got to the club - Rainbows, which, wow, was not a clever name at all - Iris managed to avoid everyone as she went to the bar and ordered a Shirley Temple. She had downed it, ordered another, and repeated.

It was only because she was so drunk that she had said yes to dancing with Lisa _(dancing with her, going home with her, sleeping with her)._ It was because she was wasted, she would insist.

_(Even though it was a lie and Iris couldn't deny the instantaneous attraction she had felt when laying eyes on the beautiful brunette) (like fire and passion and everything she had lost when Eddie had died burst to life in the form of a woman) (so maybe she wanted to kiss the girl, to steal that spark for herself) (it didn't work)._

But being drunk doesn't excuse her from the second time _(or the third, fourth, fifth, twelfth time)_ they slept together. For the way, even now, she gripped at Lisa’s long curls and arched her back but stayed silent.

_(She never made a sound when she and Lisa did this, determined to keep at least the sounds she made sacred for her and Eddie)._

Even when she was thoroughly distracted _(her legs wrapped around Lisa’s shoulders, her face buried in the apex of Lisa’s legs, her fingers deep inside Lisa’s scorching heat)_ , and not thinking about Eddie _(or Barry or Ronnie or Cisco or Caitlin or Wells or her dad)_ at all, she still never made a sound.

Lisa said she was fine with it _(she enjoyed subtlety in her lovers, knowing their pleasure from the spasming of their muscles and the expressions on their faces)_ , but Iris felt horrible.

Because even as she fucked Lisa, or more appropriately Lisa fucked her, she was with Eddie. And she hated that.

But the worst was that she never remembered the pain, self-disgust, or sadness when Lisa offered her services.

And she never remembered because of **_this_** , because of these orgasms that Lisa managed to rip out of her.

When Lisa flicked her tongue just right against Iris’s clit and scissored her fingers inside of her and Iris bit her lower lip so hard it started bleeding as she arched her back and came _so hard_. And then she began crying because this was supposed to distract her, she was supposed to _fucking forget_ but it only worked during the act and never after she had orgasmed. No, that was when she would remember how she was betraying Eddie, how she was betraying the memory of him.

This wasn’t good for her. She knew this. She knew she should’ve stopped this months ago; hell, she knew she should’ve never started it at all.

But Iris had lost the love of her life and she needed a distraction. She wouldn’t allow herself to self-destruct the way Barry was, she wouldn’t allow herself to retreat from the world the way Caitlin was, and she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened at all the way Cisco was. For her, she couldn’t pretend. But she could forget - even if it was just for an hour or so.

And she wished that was all she needed.

 


End file.
